


prism

by englishsummerrain



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, M/M, Obligatory Beach Scene, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishsummerrain/pseuds/englishsummerrain
Summary: They don’t talk often about moments like these. There might not even be a need to. It’s just the three of them, moving through time. Walking through the margins of a journal page, footsteps trailing behind them.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Park Jisung, Lee Jeno/Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le, Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	prism

**Author's Note:**

> happy end of 2020 <3

To their right the ocean blurs into one — a long smear of azure marked with sunlight sparkles.

To the left the cliffs rise high — trees clutching precariously to the dirt worn away by year after year of sea breeze and winter rainstorms.

In front of them the road opens up — wide and empty, sunshine bright. In front of them is the bonnet of Jeno’s 1999 Toyota Corolla, its peeling paint bright red like sunburned shoulders. His university lanyard hangs from the rear view mirror and in the boot are their backpacks — stuffed full of clothes and random items picked up in a hurry from their dorm room floor, the kind of haphazardness that only comes from a nine am call that says ‘I’ll be at your door in twenty minutes, so hurry up and pack’.

Jisung is in the back seat. Chenle is in the back seat, too, and he has his head out the window, hair whipped back by the wind, eyes closed as the sunshine falls down on him like a prayer.

Destination? Jisung doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. Jeno has one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the window and the world is theirs. If Jisung closes his eyes he can pretend they’re running away. He can pretend this is a new beginning. There isn’t a musty room filled with everything he owns waiting for him thirty kilometres north. They’re going to somewhere where this will begin again.

New names, new lives. New people.

He rests his head on the window and watches the gulls dip in and out of the iridescence of the sea foam.

The town is quiet. Bleached white sand spilled across the roads. Tar seal melting. Chenle forgot his jandals and he walks across the dry grass instead, skin of his feet snow white, tan lines beginning around his ankles. One time he’d gotten sunburn from how much he let his legs lay in the sunshine that pooled against the footrest of their one seater, and Jisung had been forced to walk down to the pharmacy to get him aloe vera. Chenle had complained the whole time. Jisung had wanted to smother him.

He often wants to smother him, but it’s in a fond way. Fond in the way Jeno sticks his fingers up Chenle’s nose while he's talking, sometimes. Fond in the way they brush each other’s teeth. Fond in the way a double bed isn’t quite enough for the three of them, but they’ll all cram onto it anyway. Mattress groaning, Jeno’s knee in his back. Eating pizza straight from the box, crust gone stale.

They could heat it up, but it’s the middle of winter and none of them want to leave.

It was raining then, but here it’s sunny and almost too bright. Jisung remembered his sunglasses, but Chenle stole them, and he’s left squinting at the sign outside the café, trying to read the menu.

“You know it doesn’t matter,” Chenle says. If it didn’t matter Chenle would pull him inside. He wouldn’t stand in the December heat with his hand resting on the small of Jisung’s back while he tried to see if there was something he wanted to eat.

“It’s about principle,” Jisung says. Chenle kisses him on the cheek.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it.”

“That’s not the principle I was going for.”

There’s no real principle. They sit on the deck of the café together, under a great big blue beach umbrella. It’s dotted with sun bleached shades of pink and there’s sand all over the boards, caught in the grooves, someone’s dog sleeping in the shade. Chenle coos at it while Jisung drinks his Sprite, and Jeno rests his hand on Jisung’s knee.

They don’t talk often about moments like these. There might not even be a need to. It’s just the three of them, moving through time. Walking through the margins of a journal page, footsteps trailing behind them.

Out on the beach Chenle jumps onto Jeno’s back, laughing as they run together, wet sand sinking under their combined weight. Jisung steps into the waves with all his clothes still on, and the water isn’t as cold as he thought it would be.

“You’re an idiot!” Chenle shouts at him, still on Jeno’s back. He’s still wearing Jisung’s sunglasses, too. Collecting little parts of each of them, wrapping them up like gifts. Left under the tree Jisung was supposed to put up. There’s tinsel in a box spilling over the floor, baubles scattered on the windowsill. The decorations from last year’s Halloween are still up. Renjun comments on it every time he comes over.

Jisung shrugs. Maybe he is. He wades out, everything falling away from him. Sand sifting through his toes, water pulling at him. Chenle’s laughter is like church bells. The wind is gentle. A wave crashes across his chest, tugging at the edges of his shirt.

Jisung takes a deep breath and dives in.

Jeno doesn’t want to let him in the car when he’s wet, so they buy him a towel at a tiny shop on the roadside that’s probably too small for the three of them to fit inside. Jisung bumps his shoulders on a rotating card stand and Chenle holds up a collection of ceramic starfish and makes Jeno pick the one he likes the best. Jisung buys a postcard too, for good times’ sake.

The towel is bright pink. It’s big, even for Jisung. They wrap him in it like he’s a newborn swaddled in a blanket, and Chenle pokes fun at him as they cruise down the highway. His hair is damp, sea water on his lips. Chenle leans across and kisses him, seatbelt straining against his chest.

“You should invite me next time,” he says. Jisung shrugs.

“You were having fun.”

“You know he needs a nudge, sometimes,” he says. Jisung looks to where Jeno is singing along to the radio. His gaze flicks to them in the rear view and he smiles, his eyes turning to crescent moons.

“Come with me, then,” Jisung says. He’s not sure where he’s asking Chenle to come to. It probably doesn’t matter. There’s something scary about the fact they’ll all follow each other. The fact Jeno told them they were going somewhere and they packed their bags and waited on the doorstep.

The fact Jeno had to run out and switch the engine off because he’d forgotten it was idling, and when he’d come back Chenle had pulled him through the front door by the empty belt loops in his shorts.

It’s terrifying, isn’t it? This blind faith in each other?

Jisung should be scared, but Chenle reaches up and tucks a lock of his hair behind his ear, and he knows he isn’t.

The moon that night is half — half darkness, half brilliant and glowing. Jeno sits on the bonnet of the car with his guitar and Chenle throws sticks into the campfire. The air is warm and humid and Jisung’s hair is rough with salt, head tipped back, stars fanning out above him like glitter thrown at a parade. Chenle sings, bellowing from his chest. Jeno sings, too. Jisung just watches them, warmth expanding in his chest until it fills the hollows of his bones.

Sometimes they’re like this. Sometimes they move in circles. Sometimes they move in a crooked line, winding up the side of the mountain. Leaning on the guard railing of the lookout. Chenle has his camera in hand. Jeno pulls a face as he takes the photo. There’s an older couple nearby and Jisung asks them to take a photo of the three of them. In it they’re all smiling, and the ocean blends into the hazy blue sky behind them.

Chenle takes over driving, meandering up the road, Jeno taking Jisung’s hand in his as he rests his head against the window. He looks beautiful in the sunlight, all blurred lines, all skin that Jisung knows like his own. Knows better than his own, because he's become accustomed to it over through choice. He didn't wake up one day and find he was twenty years old. He learned Jeno because he wanted to, the way he learns a favourite song.

Sometimes they’re like this. Driving to nowhere. Driving to a dream of a new life. Driving through the summer heat, when the tourists aren’t quite out, and neither are the locals. When their university town will be bustling, but their room will be empty. Beds unmade, dishwasher full of clean dishes Chenle never unpacked.

Sitting around a picnic table, eating chips together, Chenle leaning over to take a bite of the one Jisung is holding in his hand. Jeno laughing when he kisses him. Jeno backing him up against the wall. When he throws his head back it thuds into the wood, and when he opens his eyes the green of the forest ferns spread above him like outstretched hands.

Jeno sits on the deck of the cabin and whistles a tune that Jisung has heard before. It’s the theme to the show that always runs in the waiting room of their doctor’s office. Chenle doesn’t like doctors. Something about his childhood — something about insisting there was nothing wrong with him.

(There has never been anything wrong with him.)

Jisung cups Jeno’s face in his hands and Jeno smiles back at him, eyes aglow. Behind them, Chenle is asleep on the couch, one arm trailing against the hardwood floor. The car is parked out front. The birds are singing and the river gurgles. It's picturesque, and Jisung's sure he's seen this exact scene in a movie — maybe one of the ones they watched in high school, when it was the last day and the teacher put on a DVD instead of teaching because no-one was listening, anyway. Same summer haze. Same giddy feeling of passing love notes between each other. 

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Jeno asks. His lips are glossy from chapstick. Jisung reaches up to wipe a crumb from the corner of his mouth and Jeno leans into it, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah.” Jisung says. It’s twenty minutes to the beach, but he doesn’t know if they’ll end up there.

Jeno doesn’t open his eyes. He just smiles and nods. “Should we wake Chenle?”

“No,” he says. “He’ll know where we are.”


End file.
